(( suddenly i'm thinking back on how Mayuri's mass killing of Rukongai citizens for the sake of 'balance' wasn't questioned or stopped like even for a second by anyone... <.< ))
(( just finished catching up w/ the season 2 finale!! -SHOUTS-
I NEED TO SCREAM ABOUT THIS W/ SOMEONE ~!
THE EXTENDED SQUAD 0 FIGHT SCENES?????
.... AND LILTOTTO M Y GIRL!! ;-; WHEN SHE DIVED & SAVED GIGI
-breathes-
I love them, I do!
Yushiro was so cute too, such a lil guy
also appreciated the bit with Hiyori doubting Hara's motives
and the lil dude with the double tongues?? wish he would've stuck around longer, he seemed quirky - a bit scatterbrained to which I relate I can lol
but OH MAN-- guys guys-- WHAT IF.... WHAT IF WE GET TO SEE JUGO'S VOL FORM NEXT TIME?!! @w@ ))
The small, polite smile on Mukuro's lips faltered for a split when she was accosted if she was honest。 Not one to have a hot head really, but Mukuro wasn't really ever too stoked when someone came at her kind of sideways, but she was quick to remind herself that she was a bit in the wrong here so maybe, just maybe, it was warranted。
「I was looking for you, actually, and was directed to go in this direction。」 Now Mukuro did, of course, read the signage dictating her not to go here, but deliberately chose to ignore them。 If she got written up for it, fine, whatever, she was given a task and she was going to complete it as swiftly as possible so she could get back to her bankai training。
「You weren't at the last women's association meeting, so I was tasked to make sure you get these forms。」 Mukuro said as she held out the forms in question, something along the lines of suggestions on what their next fundraiser should be among other things。
Rukia narrowed her eyes slightly at the intruder, the unfamiliar face now carrying a somewhat reasonable explanation. She examined the forms that were held out to her, her gaze flickering between them and the person standing before her.
She extended a gloved hand to accept the documents, her stern demeanor finally relaxing, as she gave a nod.
"I see," she said, though her voice still carrying a hint of authority. "I was indeed absent from the last meeting. Unforeseen circumstances with the squad required my attention elsewhere."
With a hint of curiosity now mixed with her vigilance, Rukia flipped through the pages briefly, confirming their authenticity.
"Very well," she finally said, handing the forms back. "You may inform them that I have received their message... and I appreciate your diligence in delivering it."
Though she maintained her composed exterior, Rukia couldn't help but wonder about the woman before her-- she had a vague air of mystery about her, and Rukia's instincts told her there might be more to this encounter than met the eye.
it's literally My body and you're telling me i can't look at it without "dying of blood loss" or "passing out from shock". major design flaw if you ask me.
“Ohh? My my, Aizen-san, I didn’t realize there were things even you don’t already know!” he says, with exaggerated awe, waving his fan in emphasis of the words. “As for what it suggests of me— it could suggest any number of things; but whether any of them would be true, is another matter entirely, of course!”
He laughs then, tapping his chin with an edge of his now snapped shut fan. “What truth do you perceive, is the real question, isn’t it?”
What a flippant man. — Was that the perception Urahara Kisuke wished to craft with the intention to fool him of all individuals? Perhaps this was this ultimately negligent man’s most lofty ambition yet, falling short of his utter failure with the Hōgyoku. Naturally, such details were irrelevant for the time being. But Urahara no longer concerned himself with relevancy if his actions spoke more volume than his words.
It was no matter. — This man had deigned to visit the Muken once more, and that statement was the essence of truth in its conciseness alone. There existed no other perception that could deprive that fact of its matter, and so Aizen shall not entertain such and be led astray when the appearance of Urahara Kisuke before his throne of a cage was adequate. Perhaps even sufficient if such a word could ever be applied to this man.
“You ask what truth I perceive whilst providing sufficient evidence for a certain truth, and thus rendering my prior words to you absolute,” Aizen stated with confidence; interpret the definition of the term as one may. “Very well. — I shall gladly reiterate for you in simpler terms, observing that you are incapable of recognizing the irony: You elect to retain your silence on certain matters and offer divergence with evasion.” And cowardice. “I expected no less from you, Urahara Kisuke.”
A silence, then. Would it unsettle; shift the pieces upon the metaphorical chessboard of neither black nor white, but varying grays that their conversations and perspectives had locked them upon?
Aizen wondered.
“Sales must be stagnant,” he remarked, his mouth curving further. “Or am I to believe that these seals of yours require excessive maintenance? Or, perhaps,” a pause as he leaned forward as best the bindings allowed him, “you sought me out, to speak of and explore with me in depth: unsettling silences and how such reveals character.” A mild scoff, lukewarm at best. “Surely, your best conversation partner regarding this sits within the mirror and not before you.”
Urahara's smile, curved with a faint wisp of intrigue, remained an ever-present fixture on his lips, like a mask concealing the inner workings of his ever-active mind, as he stood there listening to Aizen; to Kisuke, the intricate dance of words and veiled meanings was a game, and Aizen, a player who had yet to fully master the rules.
Even so, his smile, although undoubtedly playful, was not intended as mockery; instead, it was a genuine display of the good-natured amusement he found in the exchange.
"Eh?~ Not bad, Aizen-san," Urahara replied, a brief glint in his eyes. "Well, I can tell that you certainly have some puzzle pieces in your grasp. But, you see, it's a tad more intricate than that. Understanding the delicate interplay between silence and revelation is an art.
For those unable to discern these subtleties to gauge answers for themselves, the truth might seem elusive, but sometimes the obscurity lies not in the words themselves, but in the interpreter's ability to decipher their hidden meanings, a deficiency in their perception to read between the lines-- not so much a deliberate act of obscurity," he suggested with a with a curious glance, before unfurling his fan in a single, fluid motion.
He regarded the one before him silently for a moment, and then, turning away, let out a dramatic sigh.
"Though, as a man of science," Kisuke continued, "I can't say I can truly relate to that sentiment, myself. After all, Lady Science demands one pursue answers through rigorous research and experimentation; the pursuit of discoveries via delving into the depths of the unknown, to unveil the secrets of the world through methodical inquiry, trial and error, in the pursuit of irrefutable truths, where the boundaries of silence and revelation are pushed and prodded.
As such, it demands the ability to discern fact from conjecture," he stated simply, his tone retaining its pleasant and whimsical quality, even now.
"Yet, just as with reading between the lines of a conversation, not everyone possesses the aptitude, nor sufficiently discerning eye, for scientific endeavors, to be cut out for such a path-- wouldn't you agree?"
Between the soft, fluttering sounds of his moving fan, Urahara went on-- pacing from left to right, then back again, and so forth-- before his captive audience, unperturbed.
"Indeed, some things require delicate handling, much like the fragile balance between what we choose to reveal and what we keep hidden.
As for a mirror... I can't claim to find any appeal in the idea," he quipped, his words carrying a playful ring. "Mirrors are limited to reflecting only what is tangible, known and present, a mere echo of reality-- much like words reveal only what we choose to express. However, the true essence of understanding, lies in the unspoken; in the gaps between words, in the voids that hold the deepest mysteries.
As we venture into the depths of introspection, its in those quiet recesses where the most profound revelations often reside, in the very silences we choose to maintain, paradoxically, that tend to expose us the most."
Suddenly, Urahara came to a halting stop, fan stilling, as if to place particular emphasis on the following words.
"As for seeking you out," he went on, his tone light, amicable even. "You could say that my curiosity favors the flavors of your always particular insights and introspection, which never fail to be interesting to hear. So, who better to turn to as a conversational partner, than the clever and enigmatic intellectual that is Aizen-san?
However, if you prefer the blissful solitude of your own reflections, as brooding geniuses are wont to do, I suppose I can look elsewhere," he concluded, peeking out from behind the fan now, in an imitation of coyness, eyes dancing with mirth.
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